The forest here is so dense, every nook and cranny between tree trunks overflowing with brush, damp smelling moss, and climbing vines. That anyone was able to carve out a path through this detritus of organic matter is miraculous, and that the road seems to be fairly well maintained is even more so. Talk about infrastructure!
Naturally, the mare’s first impulse is to abandon the hard-won track and wade into the thicket, seeking out brightly colored petals and bitter smelling roots hiding among the more common species of shrub and fern. She wonders if she might find any of the useful ginger root or if any of the hulking trunks might yield her personal favorite, cinnamon.
The thought of its warm and pungent flavor spurs her on, though the possibility of discovering – well, anything, really – would likely have been enough to send her scrambling in by itself, given a moment of consideration. Everything seems to be going fine at first, the rose grey lifting her hooves up high and only placing them down again on plants she knows to be innocuous, slowly – very slowly - but surely making her way into the forest at a roughly perpendicular angle from the path. Head swiveling, she scans all around herself, noting a strong presence of bluebells, their downturned, trumpet shaped flowers adding a sprinkle of sapphire and indigo to the wood. She can also see some small white blooms of the bloodroot flower, largely toxic, but useful for making dyes. It’s not until she spots a patch of blackberry bushes and her stomach clenches and rumbles in response that everything starts to go to shit.
Stepping carefully onto a clump of emerald green moss, she attempts to position herself close enough to the berries to start greedily plucking them from their thorny stems without her coat and long mane becoming entangled in the process, but just as she shifts her weight forward the moss beneath her hooves gives way, her front legs sinking into the ground and leaving her trapped in an unwilling puppy pose. ”Well, shit." She growls, immediately furious with herself for getting into this predicament. ”What the fuuu-"
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”speak”
@Bucephalus
Let's assume this is after she meets Somnus and learns about the Courts, thus why she's headed toward Dawn.
The young stallion quietly trodded on through the forest. It was quite dense at this point, almost immensely so. A thin layer of fog covered the ground, leaving any vegetation hard to see. The ground was also slick with rain, which certainly didn't help in terms of staying on your feet. The skies were covered with thick dark clouds like a blanket, and the young stallion soon came upon an older mare, lying prone on the ground, her legs stuck out in front of her like a puppy. "Excuse me..." he asked quietly. "IS everything alright?"
There’s a voice, a witness, of course there is. The mare strains to curl her neck over her own shoulder far enough to catch a glimpse of the stallion behind, but the way that her front legs are stretched out in front of her, dropping her sternum lower than the rest of her body, makes it difficult to say the least. Thankfully, a glimpse is more than enough with this guy. He’s massive. His withers must be close to a foot taller than hers and his chest is easily twice as wide the streamlined greys. She raises a brow at his question, unable to make out any facial expressions from the faded peripherals of her vision. Is he being sincere or being satirical? She can't decide.
”No, everything is not alright.” She huffs impatiently, though her anger is clearly misplaced even to her own ears. Taking a deep breath, she tries to address the stallion more calmly, more appropriately for someone who needs assistance, only partially successfully. Her tone remains abrupt, but loses its initial hostility. ”Do you think you could help me outta here, Goliath?” Gesturing toward her front legs with her muzzle, she explains as best she can, embarrassment clipping the sentences short. ”I don’t think there’s mud or anything down there. I think I’m just propped in such a way that I’m off balance and can’t lever myself out. Maybe if you helped push me backward? Or…” She trails off, uncertain how someone larger and heavier than her herself could make it close enough to help without becoming hopelessly stuck themselves.
”Oh! Maybe one of those vines?" A few old loops of ivy and other parasitic flora hang from the lower limbs of the trees, offering a possible solution. ”Are you any good at roping?" Now her expression lightens, a smile breaking the tension across her lips. Anything's worth a shot.
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Rain started to fall from the heavens, leaving the young stallion soaked and chilled to the bone as he stood in front of this mare. He watched as she curled her neck over her shoulder, almost in pain as she lifted her head to look at him. He watched as her sternum dropped lower than the rest of her body. Was she angry about something, or something he couldn't explain? Either way, he would soon find out.
"No, everything is not alright."
Buceph quietly sighed. What had he done to somehow anger the mare in front of him? Was it simply because he had been present when she had fallen? Or had someone been by here before and had made fun of her? Or what if... No. He wouldn't let his mind go there, not after what he had been through.
"Do you think you could help me outta here, Goliath? I don’t think there’s mud or anything down there. I think I’m just propped in such a way that I’m off balance and can’t lever myself out. Maybe if you helped push me backward? Or… Oh! Maybe one of those vines? Are you any good at roping?"
"I can certainly try." He reared up, using his front legs to kick the vine over to the mare on the ground.
Black rimmed ears tip forward as the stallion lifts himself to paw at the vines overhead, but the mares expression quickly flattens as one of the lower hanging loops is jerked free of the rest and tossed unceremoniously in her direction, landing with a hollow thud against the ground nearby. She stares at it, lips pressing into a thin line before delivering flatly, ”Well jeeze, don’t strain yourself.”
Looking more annoyed (and more ridiculous) by the second, she stretches her neck out as far as her body will let her, twisting her head to the side and fumbling for the vine with her upper lip, dragging it toward her little by little until she can grasp it more firmly between her teeth and pull the excess length within easy reach. ”Okay...” She thinks aloud, ”Fuck, I hope this isn't poison ivy or poison oak or poison anything, but maybe if I…” Flipping her head to the side in a quick, sharp motion she’s able to sling the vine across her withers and grab it from the opposite side, tucking the loose end between her front legs and carefully knotting it into a makeshift sling around her barrel. ”There!” A look of triumph lights her eyes, quickly followed by chagrin as she turns once more to the auburn stranger, waggling the now suspended vine strung between herself and the canopy nearest the road. ”I don’t suppose you could give me a tow? Just enough to get out of this mess?” And as an afterthought, ”Please?"
Buceph watched with a sigh of disappointment as the first vine he kicked at collapsed onto the ground near the mare, with a loud thud. Her ears perked up and her expression turned sour as the vine fell onto the thick mud. He turns to face the mare as she quietly growls at him, “Well jeeze, don’t strain yourself."
Her look grew more serious, almost angry, as he attempted to rescue her from the mud. At least he was even trying to help her in the first place – he could have very easily chosen to walk away, but he didn’t. Her neck stretched out from side to side as far as she could make it, fumbling and struggling to grasp the vine that he had pushed over to her. She finally grasped it after a few minutes.
"Thank the gods."
He paused for a moment, waiting to see if the young mare would be able to get out of the mud. Much to his surprise, she wrapped the vine around herself. She turned to face him and asked him if he could try to pull her out from the mud, wondering if she was caught in poison ivy or oak or anything poison.
“I do not think you are caught in anything poisonous. However, I have not had that much experience with forest plants, so I do not know.”
With that he started to move his head to grip the vine, biting down tightly on it. He pulled back, trying to help the mare out of the damned mud that had trapped her. At least this had gone somewhat well so far.